


Winter's Song (Dissonance in Silence)

by JinxedAmbitions



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Musicians, Opposites Attract, Power Outage, Romantic Comedy, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxedAmbitions/pseuds/JinxedAmbitions
Summary: When Ben’s parents ask him to pet sit for the holidays, he’s less than thrilled.  The situation is only made worse when he meets his parents’ new neighbor, Armitage Hux.  The man is everything that Ben is not: successful, disciplined, well-dressed. They dislike each other from the moment they meet, and things only go from bad to worse when Chewbacca, Han and Leia’s dog, develops a taste for Hux’s expensive shoes.A string of unfortunate incidents, an untimely snowstorm, an unexpected power outage, a pair of men ill-equipped to deal with each other’s eccentricities, and it is going to be a holiday to remember...that is if they don’t kill each other before Christmas comes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this fic two years ago and never finished the last chapter in order to post it. I meant to post it last year, but life got away from me. So, I'm finally posting it. Hoping to post it all before the end of January, earlier if possible. This is full of holiday/winter tropes, and was really just an excuse to be self indulgent. Think of it as Jinxed's answer to Hallmark holiday movies.

Ben nodded at the doorman as he entered his parents’ building.  He stamped out his heavy, black boots on the long mat at the entrance and walked to the elevator.  He shook out his hair once he was in the small cubicle and headed up to his parents’ floor.

He didn’t like their building.  Manhattan wasn’t really his style, especially the Upper East Side—not far east, mind you, since they wanted an uninhibited view of the Park.  He preferred his closet-sized apartment over in Brooklyn.

Just as the elevator was closing, someone shoved their hand between the doors. Ben hadn't seen them coming, or he would've hit the door close button incessantly in hopes of keeping the elevator to himself.  He couldn’t stand most of the occupants of his parents’ building, and he certainly didn’t want to be trapped in a steel box with any of them. Visions of the damn thing malfunctioning and being trapped for hours—with Florence and her yorkie from the sixteenth floor or Paul from maintenance who had always had a fascination with Ben—made him shudder.

Unfortunately, a man with slicked-back ginger hair stepped into the elevator with him. The man's ear was plastered to his cell phone and his lips pursed in annoyance.  The man looked about as friendly as a mongoose, and equally as weasley if you asked Ben.

“I want those corrections on my desk by morning...I don't care that you haven't had dinner with your husband in three weeks...I haven't had so much as a night off in _years_ ...if I can't send this to print by Monday, it will be catastrophic. Do you want that on your conscience?” the man demanded. “I am _not_ at home relaxing. I am packing my bags, so I can deal with another celebrity that thinks they don’t need a ghost writer. Are you there? Unamo? _Dammit_.”

The elevator either disconnected the call or the person on the other end had. Ben was happy because he didn't really want to listen to this guy yell at his employee anymore. The man probably shuffled off all his responsibilities to poor Unamo, so he could go relax in his penthouse apartment. And boy did he look like he owned the penthouse.

Ben groaned internally. The man might as well have stepped off the pages of some magazine about posh living in the city. He wore a thick black great coat over a charcoal gray suit, and he had on a pair of perfectly fitted gloves that made his hands look elegant instead of bulky.

Ben tried not to roll his eyes at how hard the man was trying. Instead, he looked down at the floor as the man got situated, and Ben noticed the expensive pair of wingtip shoes the man was wearing.

Ben missed Brooklyn where people wore those shoes ironically because, honestly, how else was one supposed to wear them? They screamed “I have so much money I don't know what to do with it, so I'll purchase overpriced and uncomfortable shoes.”

The man didn't try to make conversation, at least, which was more than Ben could say about most of the building's residents. He was constantly forced to make small talk with nosy neighbors who wanted to know if he'd settled down yet with a nice fill-in-the-blank-with-whatever-nationality-the-inquisitor-was girl yet. The answer was no, and the answer would continue to remain no because Ben happened to like his freedom and his solitude. If he wanted someone to nag him constantly he'd still be living with Han and Leia.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Ben looked up to see that it was his parents' floor, but the other occupant was already stepping out of the elevator. Ben frowned, but he followed him out.

As soon as the man heard Ben step off as well, he looked over his shoulder. If Ben wasn't larger than the man by quite a few pounds, he would've frozen in place at the glare the man gave him.

“Who are you visiting?” the man asked sharply.

Ben's frown only grew deeper.

“Han and Leia,” he replied, walking down the hall behind the man.

The man scowled deeply at his answer as though this was less preferable than him following him for some nefarious purpose. “They aren't home, I'm afraid you'll have to come back another time,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket. His other hand clutched his briefcase tightly.

“I know they aren't home. I'm here to look after Chewie, their dog,” Ben retorted, realizing the man thought he was going to attack him or something equally ridiculous.  He did realize they were in a building with one of the most diligent doormen in the city, didn’t he? Sure, Ben had gotten that reaction from people before. The long hair and dark clothes and the massive boots often made people pause, especially in this neighborhood, but as far as he was aware this building had never had an intruder.

“ _Chewie_ ,” the man said, injecting quite a bit of loathing into the word. “How aptly named.” He stopped right at the door beside Ben's parents’.

“He get your shoes?” Ben asked, reaching into his jeans for his keys. He wanted to laugh. Chewie did love shoes, and Ben would've paid good money to see him snatch those stupid wingtips away from this new neighbor.

The man just continued to scowl as he unlocked his own door. “Keep the little monster on a leash. Han can never seem to grasp that,” the man said before stepping into his apartment and shutting the door firmly behind him.

Ben did laugh then. He opened his own door and was greeted by Chewbacca's excited barks. The dog came running for the door, but Ben stepped inside and shut it before the dog could escape.

“Did you make friends with the new neighbor already?” Ben asked as he knelt in front of the small floppy-haired dog. Chewie the Third was not nearly as large as Chewbacca or Chewie Jr. had been, but he was still full of personality.

Ben would've liked to have been able to take Chewie back to his apartment for the duration of his parents' trip, but his apartment building had a strict no animal policy. Not to mention, his closet-sized apartment wasn't really dog friendly. It would just be easier not to be in his parents’ building. Ben worked in Brooklyn for the most part, and taking the subway back to Han and Leia's once the catered events ended was not something he looked forward to. Ben was big, and he could be scary, but no one in their right mind wanted to be on the subway late at night.

Once Chewie was satisfied that Ben had given him a proper greeting, the dog wandered back to whatever he had been doing while left to his own devices. From the looks of it, he'd been making a meal of one of Han's shoes. Ben had no doubt that Han had thought himself clever and tried to lock all his shoes up, but Chewie was resourceful. Or maybe Han had sacrificed a pair in hopes of saving the rest, if so, he was a fool.

Ben went to the kitchen and opened Chewie's actual food and fed him. Then he went to the room his parents kept for him. The bed was made, and the curtains were opened. Ben closed the curtains immediately and flopped on the bed until Chewie needed his walk.

* * *

Hux clenched his fist as he stepped into his apartment.  He’d thought he had a few days without the constant yapping of his neighbors’ dogs or the constant threat of being attacked when he left his apartment.  

Dogs were not his animal of choice.  They were loud. They slobbered constantly.  They smelled like a combination of wet carpet and halitosis.  And they jumped. The aggressive little fuckers jumped on everything.  They jumped on furniture, at each other, and worst of all they jumped on Hux.

Memories of boarding school always came back as those nippy little monsters next door would corner him in the hallway.  Sharp teeth just begging to rend flesh.

Hux shook his head and dropped his keys in the small bowl near the door.  Millicent came trotting out of the living room with her tail in the air as she wove herself around his ankles.  Hux smiled down at the orange cat, bending to run his gloved fingers over her sleek coat.

“You’re far superior to the mut next door,” Hux told her, walking toward the kitchen to get her dinner.

Hux had only been living in the building for a little over a month, but he’d already discovered a deep dislike for his neighbors and their animals.  Today was the first time he’d had the displeasure of meeting their son, but the man’s reputation preceded him.

Leia was constantly on the phone complaining either to her son or about him.  Just from what filtered through the wall, Hux knew the man was underemployed, needed to cut his hair, possibly had a drug problem, and couldn’t be trusted to take care of himself.

Hux found it funny that he was trusted to care for that infernal mutt though.  Hopefully, this would take care of the dog problem altogether...and maybe the whole family if there were drugs involved.

Muttering to himself about being freed from bad neighbors, Hux went to the kitchen and opened one of the many cookbooks he had neatly arranged on a shelf above the counter.  He picked one at random, and looked for a recipe that required ingredients he had on hand.

One of the things that he’d found appealing about this apartment was the size of the refrigerator.  It could hold all of the fresh ingredients his heart could desire, as well as any leftovers of what he made.

Cooking was one of Hux’s greatest pleasures. Hux loved things that were spelled out in step-by-step instructions that could be followed.  It was also particularly satisfying because few other creations allowed you to experience it through so many senses.

Hux chose a recipe and began moving around the kitchen to prepare himself dinner.  He often wondered what it would be like to have someone to cook for, but he usually came to the conclusion that it was better this way.  He couldn’t trust someone else to appreciate a meal he spent so much energy on the way he could. He also couldn’t trust them not to attempt to help.  The thought of someone else invading his kitchen was _unfavorable_.

Hux’s mind wandered to his neighbors’ son as he set out his ingredients, and Hux had to put down the knife he was holding.

“Could you imagine sharing dinner with that man next door, Millie?  He probably doesn’t even know the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork,” Hux said, watching his sole companion spread herself out on her window seat.

Sure, Hux knew exactly who the man’s parents were, but that didn’t mean he’d inherited and sort of manners.  In fact, Hux had had to deal with plenty of spoiled brats who had none of the class of their sires. It was part of his job, because every single one of those brats wanted to write a book detailing their infernal upbringing.  They all had an over-inflated sense of self importance, and Hux took pleasure in crushing it when he could.

Hux turned to open the refrigerator, looking for the finger of ginger he’d be using, only to find it had grown mold since the last time he’d used it.  Hux frowned.

“Unacceptable,” he sighed, deciding there was nothing to be done but head over to the grocery store.

* * *

Ben didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until Chewie jumped up onto the bed with him and started licking his face. Groaning, Ben pushed the dog away, but he came back with more disgusting breath.

“I get it. You want to walk,” Ben said, sitting up and looking at the time. “Shit. I hope you didn't whiz on the rug.” It had been over an hour since he'd laid down.

Grabbing Chewie's leash, Ben clipped it onto the dog's collar and took him out of the apartment for a much needed walk. Thankfully, Chewie had been able to hold everything in because Ben did not want to have to figure out how to clean Leia's expensive carpets.  He was certain that she was more protective of the white carpets than she’d ever been of him.

Chewie was good on the ride down to the lobby. He didn't even nip at Ben's shoe as he waited for the elevator to descend. Once they were out of the elevator though, Chewie was a dog on a mission.

Ben waved to the doorman as he was dragged by the thirty pound dog right out the door. Chewie took off down the sidewalk on his usual course. Thankfully, between the cold and the rain there weren't too many people walking about in this part of the city. Ben knew that downtown was always packed, but up here people were more likely to take a cab when the weather was shit. That didn't mean there weren't the diehards that refused, but the neighborhood was pretty quiet as Ben followed Chewie.

They hit the first fire hydrant down the block, and Ben waited as Chewie took his time sniffing it before marking his territory. Then they moved further down where Chewie took care of business. Ben waited until Chewie was pulling at the leash before he bent to clean things up.

Ben wasn't watching as he focused on the dogshit that he was coaxing into a plastic bag. He didn't realize another person was coming until he heard a sharp curse followed by the sound of keys hitting pavement.

“Restrain your damn dog,” a familiar voice said.

Ben glanced up to see his parents' neighbor, and he tugged Chewie back from him.

“Sorry, I didn't see anyone coming up the sidewalk,” Ben apologized, trying to keep Chewie from jumping on the man with wet paws.

The man grumbled, and Ben almost felt bad. “Here, let me get your keys,” he offered, shuffling over and picking up the ring of keys.

“Thank you,” the man said, sounding tired as Ben straightened up.

“He's not aggressive. He just likes to make friends,” Ben told him as the man opened his palm to accept his keys.

“I'm more of a cat person. I've rarely been around dogs, friendly or otherwise,” he said, looking down at Chewie like he was particularly mystifying.

Ben dropped the keys into his leather covered palm, and he watched as the man's long fingers curled around them slowly. “I guess he can take some getting used to,” Ben said, trying to be understanding but he'd grown up with dogs, so he really couldn't understand. “I'm Ben.”

“Yes, I assumed,” the man replied. When Ben frowned, he clarified. “I can hear your mother yelling sometimes when I am on the balcony. I am Hux,” he added as though to lighten the revelation.

“She does do that,” Ben said, trying to offer his hand for a shake, but realizing he was still holding the bag of shit. He juggled it into his left hand and reached out. Hux took it in a firm shake. They paused, looking at each other. Ben was taken by how blue the man's eyes were. It was like staring into a glacier, and almost as beautiful.

“What the—” Hux shouted, jumping back suddenly and ruining the moment.

Ben looked down to see Chewie's little leg raised as he aimed right at the man's shoes. Ben's mouth dropped open. So much for the moment of goodwill.

“Shit, I'm sorry.”  He tried to bend down to snatch up Chewie but thought better of grabbing the pissing dog.

“Do you have any idea how much these cost?” Hux shouted, shaking his soaked foot which only excited Chewie more because now he had a moving target to lunge at.

Ben pulled the leash taut, so Hux wasn't in any danger of losing a shoe to Chewie. However, the whole situation was rather unfortunate.

“I'm sorry. He's territorial,” Ben apologized.  He was going to kill his parents for making him pet sit.

“So is my cat, but she doesn't piss on strangers!”

Ben cringed. “Come on, Chewie. Let's go,” he said, pulling the dog away. Chewie fought him, but eventually he gave up and followed. “Really? You couldn't behave for ten minutes? What if he wants us to pay for his shoe? You're gonna be out of kibble because I don't have that kind of money,” Ben told the dog as he continued their path down the block. He glanced back over his shoulder to see the man still shaking his foot out as he walked.

* * *

Piss.  He’d been pissed on...by that horrid dog.  Hux had to take a steadying breath as he gave his soaked foot one last shake.  He could feel the disgusting squelch of his wet sock sliding in his shoe as he put his foot down.

This was unacceptable.

And they had almost had a civil moment there.  Hux had been so taken by how soft Ben’s eyes were and those full lips, but it had been a trap.  The appeal of the man’s eyes didn’t matter when they couldn’t even do their job of watching that mutt.  What good were his lips if his commands couldn’t stop his dog from urinating on strangers?

Hux walked awkwardly back to the apartment building, his small bag of groceries safely tucked under his arm.  He ignored the doorman’s greeting, and he scowled at the other resident who thought they might share the elevator with him.  Hux violently pressed the button for his floor as he watched the other occupant make a face as they were suddenly aware of the smell of piss in the elevator.

The entire ride was horribly embarrassing.  The man probably thought he couldn’t control his own bodily functions or something equally humiliating, and it was all Ben’s fault.  

Hux nearly ran out of the elevator when it reached his floor, barrelling into his apartment and tearing off his shoes with more violence than necessary.  He nearly gagged as he peeled off the sodden sock.

“Disgusting,” he muttered holding the offending sock between two fingers and dropping it into the trash.  “They should just make the damn thing into a carpet and be done with it.” Hux opened the door and placed the shoe into the hallway, so it couldn’t make his entire apartment smell.

* * *

They made it around the block and back into the elevator without any more incidents. Ben eased up on the leash which he'd been holding in a death grip since Chewie peed on Hux’s foot.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Chewie seemed to have his own ideas and took off, taking the leash with him. “Fuck,” Ben said, running after the dog. Ben's eyes widened as he saw the pair of wet wingtips sitting outside Hux's door. “No, Chewie. Heel! Heel, dammit!” Ben shouted as he ran, but it was too late.

Just as Chewie came to a sliding halt at the unprotected pair, the door to Hux's apartment opened, and Ben watched in horror as Chewie snatched the shoe right out from under Hux and came bounding back toward Ben.

Ben received the full force of Hux's glare as Chewie slowed his run. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he tried to catch Chewie, but the dog dodged him knowing exactly what Ben was after.

“I'm sorry, I'll get it back. He'll give it up...eventually,” Ben apologized, making another leap for the rambunctious dog.

“I'm sure it will be very wearable at that point,” the man said stoically. “Keep your mutt away from me, Ben, or I will have to speak to the board about it.” With that, the man took his other shoe and closed the door firmly.

As soon as the door was closed, Chewie trotted over to Ben and dropped the ruined show at his feet. The dog looked up at him with its tongue hanging out of its mouth.

Ben sighed. “You did that on purpose,” he said, turning to open the door to his parents' apartment. Chewie picked the shoe back up and walked inside, looking very pleased with himself. Ben groaned, knowing it was going to be a long week if this was just the start of it.

Following the disobedient dog into the apartment, Ben chose to pretend to ignore the dog until he lost interest in the shoe.  He sat at the kitchen table for nearly an hour before Chewie walked off without it, probably to go get Han’s shoe and introduce the two.

Ben pounced, running for the shoe.  As soon as Chewie heard his heavy steps, the dog came sprinting back into the room.  Ben dove for the shoe, and he had to wrestle it from Chewie’s sharp little teeth. The dog barked at him like they were playing, but Ben marched out of the apartment with the chewed up shoe.

He marched next door and pounded on Hux’s door.  When the man answered, he was still wearing his suit and his leather gloves.  Ben frowned at the fashion choice, but it was nothing compared to the man’s glare.

“Come to rob my shoe closet?” he asked sharply, keeping the door mostly closed.

Ben just thrust the shoe at his neighbor, and that earned in a disgusted look from the man.  “Just returning this,” Ben said.

“Charming,” Hux said, taking the shoe between his gloved fingers like it was radioactive.  A string of slobber hung off the heel, and Hux looked horrified by it. He leaned back and threw the shoe directly into a trash can beside the front door.  Ben could see its partner already in there.

“If you’re just going to throw it out, Chewie would love to—”

The door slammed in Ben’s face.  “Asshole,” Ben said under his breath as he walked back to his own apartment.  Chewbacca gave him a betrayed look when he walked in. “Everybody’s a critic,” Ben said, walking to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the spirit of Christmas, I'm posting chapter two today. Happy holidays if you celebrate.

The following morning, Chewie woke Ben far too early with licks and excited bouncing.  Ben tried to roll onto his side and catch a few more minutes of sleep, but the small dog had other plans.  Chewbacca’s breath was nowhere near as refined as his taste in footwear. In fact, Ben believed there were sewers that smelled better than Chewie’s breath.

“I’m getting up,” Ben told the animal as he pushed his nose out of his face.  He received a smelly lick for his efforts. “What happened to those dental treats Leia had you eating?  You allergic to smelling good?” Ben asked as he threw back the covers, effectively burying Chewie in blankets.

Ben got up and wandered over to the chest of drawers.  Chewie was distracted enough for Ben to have time to pull on a large black sweater and a pair of socks.  

“Let’s go,” Ben said, pulling his boots off the top shelf of the bookcase.  He slipped his feet into them before Chewie could challenge him for them. Ben had only ever lost one pair of shoes to the dog, and that had been on purpose, though he’d never tell his mother that.  Uggs just weren’t Ben’s style. He didn’t care how comfortable or expensive they were. 

Without pulling on pants, Ben grabbed his fraying black scarf and his pea coat and grabbed Chewie’s leash.  “We’re just going out, and you’re pissing on the closest object possible, okay? I need coffee and a solid forty-five minutes of exercise before I can handle a serious walk,” Ben spoke to the dog like he would understand.  Maybe he did because he walked right up to Ben to get tethered.

Ben felt duped as soon as he opened the door though.  Hux was standing outside his own apartment with several pieces of luggage.  He was dressed impeccably in a different suit but the same gloves and coat. A new pair of expensive oxfords resided on his feet, and Ben was secretly glad that Chewie ate the other pair.

Chewie tugged at his lead, but Ben was quicker this morning.  He held him back just as Hux turned around and glared at him. “Come to steal my luggage as well?” he asked, staring right at Chewie.  That was nothing compared to Hux’s expression when he noticed Ben wearing a coat and no pants. His eyes widened a moment as he took in Ben’s whole look then quickly turned into derision.

“Come on, let’s go,” Ben said to the dog, attempting to drag the excited animal in the direction of the elevator.  “You planned that,” Ben accused as they got situated in the elevator. 

When the doors opened, they walked out in front of the building.  Ben was surprised when Chewie actually went right to the curb and did his business.  It wasn’t until Chewie had already taken a shit that Ben realized he was out of plastic bags.

“Shit.  I gotta run inside to get a bag from the doorman.  You all done here, Chewie?” Ben asked as Chewie gave the pavement a sniff.  “Come on, man. I’m freezing my nuts off out here. They aren’t nearly as furry as yours,” Ben told him.  

Chewie seemed satisfied with himself and followed Ben back inside.  The doorman had a whole roll of bags because it was fairly common for the residents to run out at inopportune times.  Once Ben had one in hand, he stepped back outside leaving Chewie to play with the doorman. 

As Ben was stepping out, he saw a town car pull up in front of the building.  Hux was standing on the curb with his bags, and as soon as the car stopped, he stepped off the curb to open the door.  

Ben’s eyes widened, and he prayed that he’d missed Chewie’s mess.  He waited, watching as the driver packed the bags into the trunk and Hux got settled.  Hux noticed him standing there dumbly, and all Ben could do was wave like an idiot.

When the car pulled away, Ben walked down to ground zero and found the shit with the print of expensive Italian leather shoes stamped into it.  Ben cringed as he bagged what he could and retreated back into the building after throwing it out. He needed a massive coffee, probably an Irish one.

* * *

Armitage was having the morning from hell.  First, Millicent had caught a mouse during the night, and decided to gift it to him by leaving it on his pillow.  She must have known he was leaving town because she was rarely so vindictive. Or perhaps she was upset with him for coming home smelling like dog last night.  Either way, he’d nearly had a heart attack as he’d opened his eyes to find the poor mouse lying beside him.

Then there had been the hot water problem.  For a building that cost so much to live in, they hadn’t updated their hot water system since the Depression.  The shower had started out cold and, despite constantly adjusting it, never warmed up.

His client had then started calling him incessantly as though it wasn’t five in the morning, and Hux had a plane to catch.  Hux had had to get his bags together while talking to them on the phone and making sure that Millicent didn’t try to escape.

And then he’d run into his neighbor, which shouldn’t have been a problem since Ben wasn’t actually his neighbor.  But that damn dog was out to get him, and he knew it. 

Armitage sighed.  He was free now though.  His limo would bring him to the airport, and he’d be in a warmer climate in a couple of hours.  

Taking a deep breath, Armitage paused.  Something smelled rancid. It couldn’t be any of his bags.  He hadn’t packed any food. He’d disposed of the mouse into the hall garbage chute, so Millie couldn’t have possibly slipped it into his luggage.  That was in the trunk anyway.

Armitage sniffed again and froze.  He looked down at his feet and took a look at the soles of his shoes, and he let out an angry cry.  

It had to be Chewie. No, this was Ben’s fault.  The man had been standing out on the front step like a loon, but now it made sense.  He hadn’t cleaned up the dog’s shit, and he was just standing there watching as Hux stepped right into it.  

Hux cursed to himself as he used cocktail napkins to clean his shoes.  This was disgusting, and now he was going to smell like shit through the airport and on the plane and when he met his client.  He couldn’t put the shoe in his luggage or it would contaminate the entire bag. 

“I’m going to kill that man,” Hux promised as he got out of his car at the airport and tried to hold his head high.  It was truly unfortunate that Ben Solo was quite good looking because the man had to die. 

There were no two ways about it.  People were looking at him funny when he stood too close to them.  No amount of cologne was hiding the faint but distinctive smell of dog shit.  It only got worse when he was asked to step out of line for a random screening.  

“Sir, are you aware…”

“Yes, I am aware.  I don’t need you pointing out that I stepped in dog shit,” Hux hissed.

“Not that sir, but it seems that your luggage did too,” the agent said, pointing to the portion of the luggage that was caked in shit.

“I want to die,” Hux said, throwing his arms up.

* * *

Thankfully, Ben didn’t see Hux for a few days.  He and Chewie took their walks in peace. Ben worked out and meditated on the balcony while the dog tore up Han’s shoes.

During the day, Ben spent his time running errands for some old man who hired him to buy groceries and such for him because he didn’t like to leave his apartment.  It was good money, and it wasn’t too much trouble.

When he wasn’t doing that, he tried to write music.  They’d told him he was a prodigy. Leia had schlepped him from this lesson to that one.  He’d performed recitals beginning when he was eight years old. He’d played every instrument and every classical song he could think of.  He’d gone to special schools and won awards, yet when he’d hit his teens and wanted to write his own music and be in a rock band, it all seemed to dry up.  Everyone had scoffed at him for having such an idea in the first place. It just didn’t mesh with his upbringing.

Ben couldn’t write his own music worth a damn either.  He’d been trying to write an album for ten years, and the closest he’d come was in college performing at local bars under a false name.  It was a little easier to be someone else, but it was twice as lonely.

Chewie sat next to the piano Leia had bought Ben when he was five and they realized he had perfect pitch.  They’d been at a friend’s house and Ben started playing Christmas carols on the piano that he was hearing on the radio.  It was a bit trial and error at first, but once he got the hang of it, he could play anything.

Just playing for Chewie was fine.  Chewie didn’t really judge, though he did howl when Ben got morose.  Ben tried to keep it light, but his music was always fairly dark. Han called it emo, and Ben hated him for it.

“ _ Yeah, my son could've been a big thing in classical music, but he can't stop making that emo shit.”  _ Ben remembered Han telling his best friend, Lando, a few years back.

It hadn’t helped Ben feel creative.  In fact, Ben hadn’t felt truly creative in years.  The only time he could really compose was when he was as far away from his family and their expectations as possible.

Ben slammed his hands down on the keys, creating a painfully dissonant note before getting up from the piano.  There was no point in playing. It’s not like he needed to practice for the sorts of gigs he was doing.

In the late afternoon, Ben would walk Chewie then get on the subway and head down to Brooklyn for whatever party he was playing that night. Ben would stop at his apartment to grab clean clothes then head down to work. Ben liked being live entertainment for parties, but it wasn't what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He had three degrees in Music, Music Theory, and Education but it wasn't doing him any good in finding work.

Sure, Ben could play anything, but everyone who ever listened to his auditions said he made even the happiest music sound morose. It wasn't a talent they were looking to market. Ben had played piano at several jazz clubs when their regulars got sick, but even there he didn't seem to fit.  Playing ABBA and Billy Joel at weddings and retirement parties was easier...the people tended to be drunker.

* * *

Hux was exhausted as he rode the elevator up to his floor.  The business trip had gone about as well as to be expected. He’d spent three days listening to his client complain about how the three ghost writer’s they’d been through just didn’t understand their struggle.  Hux only just manage not to tell them that juggling three mistresses was not someone a normal person would call a real struggle, and that there was no possible way to paint him as the victim without turning the memoir into fantasy.

By the final day of the trip, Hux was done with the man’s bullshit and explained that he would either live with the next writer’s work or the book would be cancelled.  There was simply not enough time or money that would make Hux deal with any more melodrama from this client.

The man had looked like a fish as his mouth gaped and snapped shut several times before Hux held up a finger and explained that he was leaving whether the man agreed or not.  Then he picked up his bag and walked out. He’d received a call not five minutes later agreeing to his terms.

Now, Hux was back at his empty apartment with nothing to eat and a headache that wouldn’t quit.  Not to mention, he had work in the morning because he’d given his weekend to the asshole client. As if all of that wasn’t bad enough, the company’s holiday party was this week as well.

“I need a vacation, Millie,” Hux complained as he poured himself a very liberal helping of wine.  Millie was avoiding him as punishment, but he spoke to her anyway since he had no one else. He knew she was listening even if she was hiding.

Hux pulled on a sweater and stepped out onto the balcony to light a cigarette.  He stared out at the park and the city beyond, trying to find something to steady himself.  He’d been working himself to the bone for years. It was how he got to be the youngest partner at First Order Publishing.  However, lately he’d been feeling it all weighing on him.

Hux tried to remember the last time someone had called him Armitage instead of Hux or Mr. Hux.  He wasn’t sure that anyone he worked with even knew what the A in A. Hux stood for. He had a suspicion they all just thought it stood for asshole, which normally he wouldn’t care about at all.  However, as the snow fell quietly around him, blanketing the world in a shroud of peace if only for a moment, Hux wished someone other than his cat knew him.

Finishing his cigarette, Hux walked back inside, closing the door firmly behind him.  He looked around his apartment, not feeling particularly hungry. Instead, he went into the bathroom and ran himself a hot bath.  Thankfully, the hot water cooperated tonight.

As he soaked, Hux tried to imagine taking time off for the holidays like most of his employees did.  He tried to imagine having friends or family to spend time with. Not three weeks earlier, he’d spent Thanksgiving with a gourmet meal for one and his cat.  

“Am I pathetic?” Hux asked Millicent who stretched out on her perch which was attached to the vanity.

Millicent just stared at him with those all-knowing eyes of hers.  He was most assuredly pathetic in her eyes, but she loved him in spite of it.

Getting out of the tub, Hux wrapped a towel around his waist as went to his bed.  He laid down on it without even drying off, something completely out of character for him...and anyone who owned a cat who loved to sleep on their bed.

Hux didn’t even think about the cat hair as he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.  He picked up the remote to his television and turned it to the porn files he had saved on a usb attached to the back of the screen.  He flipped through the selection, hoping something would catch his interest enough to distract him from morose thoughts.

He stopped on one with a brutish man with long dark hair who was fucking the shit out of a ginger twink.  He let his towel slip open as he reached down to touch himself. He was almost fully hard when the image of Ben flitted through his mind.  Hux jerked, and his bed knocked against the wall. Even in the second of its existence, that image was enough to leave Hux breathless.

He immediately turned off the television and laid their staring at the ceiling for a long time, trying to rationalize why Ben Solo would suddenly feature in his erotic thoughts.  There had to be a rational explanation. It was probably just stress making his thoughts jumbled, never mind that such a thing had never happened before. 

“God help me, I need a vacation,” Hux muttered, just as he began to hear moans filter through the wall from Ben’s parents’ apartment.  Hux squeezed his eyes closed, trying desperately not to think of the man next door having sex, but his erection was having none of it.

Hux got himself out of bed, deciding that he needed another shower to rinse the cat hair off of his skin.  It might as well be a cold shower. It would serve his traitorous mind right.

When another moan bridged the dividing wall between the apartments, Hux gritted his teeth as his erection showed interest.  Cursing his body’s reaction, he sat back on the bed, leaning against the wall, and began to stroke himself. 

He’d just make quick work of the situation at hand, and he’d never think of it again...ever.

* * *

Ben took the Q train back up to his parents' neighborhood when the party ended. He made sure to keep his posture as threatening as possible as he trudged through the cold, down into the subway. For the most part it was dead by a quarter to four. Those that were taking a late train home kept their distance.

By the time he got all the way up to his stop, he was dead on his feet. He knew that Chewie would be ready for a walk though. The dog wouldn't care that it was four thirty or that Ben had yet to sleep. There were hydrants to mark.

Ben tried not to fall asleep as he plodded through the dusting of snow that had fallen while he was at work. It was still early enough that the city looked beautiful and white instead of the gray, slushy mess they would have come morning. Ben found himself humming as he walked up the steps to the building. The night doorman waved at him, used to Ben's odd hours by now.

Chewie was up by the time Ben got the door unlocked, and Ben was greeted with the sight of three of Han's shoes all destroyed on the floor. Ben wondered why Chewie only ever ate one of a pair. Maybe it was all some nefarious dog plan to destroy all of Han's shoes most efficiently. Ben bet a better musician could've made a funny song about that. Ben tried to think of something, but he kept basing it on a depressing tune he had stuck in his head.

“You would've liked my set tonight, Chewie. No howling necessary,” Ben said as he attached Chewie's leash and let himself be led back out into the cold. When Chewie had made a sufficient portion of the sidewalk yellow, they came back upstairs.

Ben could hear someone moving on the other side of the wall as he and Chewie settled down to sleep. Ben supposed that Hux had returned from whatever business trip he'd been on. Maybe Chewie was onto something with terrorizing Hux. The guy clearly hadn't just  _ lived  _ a day in his life. He looked like he counted out his Cheerios in the morning so that he had exactly one helping and not a Cheerio more. 

However, Ben’s mind had other ideas about the man next door.  It had been a while since Ben had gotten laid, and lying in bed as he heard the man move around on the other side of the wall brought unwelcome thoughts to mind.

Ben imagined the redhead kissing up his throat and tasting all of him. He imagined him whispering in his ear that he wanted to devour him before kissing down his chest. Ben groaned, slipping his hand beneath the covers to stroke himself.  When he realized what he was doing he tried to clear his mind. His neighbor was a tool, not masturbatory fodder.

Something hit against the wall from Hux's apartment, but it barely registered to Ben as he kept stroking himself. He didn't stop even as a rhythmic thumping started from the other side of the wall.

Ben cried out as his brain supplied the unwelcome image of Hux fucking him into the bed, grunting and moaning because Ben felt so good. Ben was so spent as he came down that he just rubbed himself on the sheets and rolled over to a dry spot.

He was just starting to doze off when he heard a moan through the wall.


End file.
